


you ruined everything in the best way

by thisissirius



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-12 08:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/pseuds/thisissirius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaner's looking down at the kid, though, frowning. He crouches down. "Hey, kid, where are your parents?"</p><p>The kid's bottom lip juts out and starts wobbling. Fuck, that means he's going to start crying, right?</p><p>"Oh shi—oot, kid, don't cry," Kaner says. "I mean, if you don't know where they are, we can find 'em?"</p><p>"Kaner," Sharpy presses. "That's <i>Saad</i>."</p>
            </blockquote>





	you ruined everything in the best way

**Author's Note:**

> i have no excuses for this. it's all savanna's fault. she encouraged this on twitter and is the WORST. i also have no excuses for patrick and jonny in this. if they're being ridiculous, it's just because they're fail pretend!parents.
> 
> thanks to bess for being my best beloved beta, all-around encourager, and for saving me from myself <3

Jon's pretty certain that in his five years of occupying locker rooms with his teammates, they've never been dead quiet. There are moments after a loss where nobody's quite sure what to do or say, but there's always been a low murmur of _something_. So when he and Kaner come off the ice chirping each other about their ongoing competition over goal scoring, the dead silence of the locker room is pretty fucking weird.

"—and you..." Kaner trails off, frowning. "What the hell is going on?"

Most of the guys are gathered around Saad's stall, which is confusing in itself, when they part and he sees a little kid standing in an oversized Saad jersey, looking up at them all with big, blue eyes.

There's a beat. "Nice one, guys," Kaner says. "Real funny."

"How did you talk Saader into playing a prank on _us_?" Jon snaps. It’s pretty common knowledge around the locker room that Saader has a ‘hockey crush’ on Jon, and a bit of a ‘what-the-hell kind of crush’ on Kaner. "Whose _child_ is this?"

"Uh—" Seabs says.

"Well," Duncs begins.

"It's fucking Saader," Sharpy says, looking shocked. Jon narrows his eyes, trying to determine whether it’s genuine shock, or the faked shock of someone who’s playing an epic prank on his teammates. "No fucking around."

"Right," Jon says, skeptical. "It's not funny."

Kaner's looking down at the kid, though, frowning. He crouches down. "Hey, kid, where are your parents?"

The kid's bottom lip juts out and starts wobbling. Fuck, that means he's going to start crying, right?

"Oh shi—oot, kid, don't cry," Kaner says. "I mean, if you don't know where they are, we can find 'em?"

"Kaner," Sharpy presses. "That's _Saad_."

Kaner snorts, but Jon's looking around the locker room at the expressions on everyone's faces. They don't look shifty, like they're trying to figure out how to lie, and they don't have the air of guys who are keeping a secret. They mostly look a little shocked and weirded out. "What happened?"

"One minute he was standing there," Shaw says, shrugging. "The next he's a little kid."

"Bullshit," Kaner says.

The kid—Brandon?!—pokes Kaner in the chest. "Bad word, Kaner."

Kaner frowns. "You know my name?"

"Yes," the kid says, looking at Kaner like he's pretty dumb. "Tazer," he continues, pointing at Jon. "Sharpy."

"This is too fucking weird," Shaw says. "I swear to god, Tazer, that kid is Saader."

Jon is beginning to believe him—them—whatever. "How the hell do we fix this?"

Shaw tugs off his skates. "This happened in the 'Hogs once or twice. It sorta goes away after a while."

Jon blinks. "Define 'once or twice'."

Shaw opens his mouth to speak, but Hossa is nodding along. "Happened while I was with the Pens, too."

A low murmur runs through the locker room at that, and Jon's pretty sure nobody is equipped to deal with hockey players turning into little kids. He wonders if he was knocked out on the ice during the game, and he's still unconscious. There's a sharp pinch on his leg and he looks down. "What the hell?"

Kaner's looking up at him, fingers still hovering next to his leg.

"Did you just _pinch me_?"

"Wake up, Princess," Kaner snaps, gesturing at Brandon. "What are we supposed to do with him?"

Brandon looks between the two of them, tugging up Saader’s still too-big jersey, and darts over to Jon, grabbing hold of his legs. "Can I stay with Jon?!"

"What?" Jon says.

"Hey!" Shaw says. "You should stay with me!"

"I should have stayed with the fucking Sharks," Handzus mutters.

"Everyone shut up!" Kaner snaps. He's still crouched down in front of Brandon, arms resting on his knees. Jon admires his balance, a little hysterically, and deliberately doesn't think about the kid clutching at his legs. "You sure you wanna stay with Jon?"

Brandon nods. "And Kaner."

Sharpy laughs outright at that, the bastard, and Jon frowns.

"We don't—" Kaner begins. "Why me?"

Before Brandon can answer, Q is striding into the locker room and booming, "Who the hell does this kid belong to?"

It takes longer than Jon would like to explain the situation to Q but, apparently, this sort of thing happened back when he was coaching the Avs and, while Jon leaves that well alone, he focuses on Brandon, who's now sitting in Jon's lap, kicking his legs against Jon's shins.

He's been pretty much going with it, because if he thinks too hard about this, he's probably going to get hysterical or something, and he doesn't _get_ hysterical. Kaner's sitting next to him, occupying Bolland's stall, which has been empty for a couple of weeks. Most of the guys have changed while the situation was being explained to Q, and only Jon and Patrick are still in their gear.

"Seriously," Shaw is saying. "I'd be an awesome caretaker."

"It's a wonder your dog is still alive," Leddy says. "Giving you a kid is a _fuck no_ , Shawzer."

"Hey, screw you," Shaw starts, but Bollig rests a hand on his arm and forces him to sit down.

"Looking after a kid is not like looking after a dog," he says. "I think Tazer's got this one."

"I do _not_ ," Jon puts in. "I don't know how to look after a child!"

Kaner leans over, poking Brandon in the side. Brandon giggles and wriggles away. Jon suffers through it, keeping an arm around Brandon's waist. He's not going to let him _fall_ or anything. "You wanna stay with Tazer?"

Q is looking thoughtful, and Jon finds himself asking, "Is this going to be bad for us?"

"Far as I can tell, this never lasts long," Q says. "But just in case, we'll tell the press he's out with a lower body injury if he's still like this come the playoffs."

Jon really fucking hopes he's not still a kid when the playoffs start. They’re going to need everyone, and his line has been working really fucking well all season, and if they have to—

" _Hey_ ," Kaner says vehemently, close to his ear. "Stop thinking about hockey and focus on the _kid in your lap_?"

Jon frowns. "Since when are you the responsible one?"

"Fuck you," Kaner says and, at Brandon's prodding, nods. "I know, Brandon, bad word. But seriously, this shit is _weird_. Maybe Sharpy should take him? He has a kid."

Jon looks up at Sharpy, who looks less than thrilled, but shrugs. "I mean, whatever works best? Although, Duncs and Seabs need training with kids—"

He trails off and gets dual middle fingers for his trouble.

Jon's day job is basically babysitting a bunch of assholes, which you’d think would prepare him for dealing with a child, but he’s not sure he’s cut out for this. What does he know about looking after children? Meeting them places for a set period of time, sure. Long term? He’s pretty much at a loss.

Q nods. "Work it out, boys."

He leaves the locker room, and Jon gets his Captain face on, ready to hand Brandon off to Sharpy—or _anyone_ —when Brandon tips his head back against Jon's chest, looking up at him. "Am I going home with you?"

"No, buddy," Jon says, feeling like a tool. "Sharpy's gonna take you. He's got a kid you can play with."

Brandon immediately looks like he's going to cry again. "I wanna stay with _you_!"

"Oh geez," Jon says, as Brandon starts crying. "Brandon—"

"Hey," Kaner says, standing and sweeping Brandon into his arms, lifting him in the air. "Kiddo, come on."

Brandon's sobs cut off and he starts squealing, clutching at Kaner's pads as Kaner rests him on his hip.

"You gonna stop crying if Jonny takes you home?"

"Jonny time!" Brandon says, using the name Jon's heard some of the guys joke about when he and Brandon hang out off the ice.

"Right," Kaner says, face softening into a smile. Jon doesn't let his reaction to that show on his face. "Jonny time."

Poking Kaner in the chest, Brandon says, "And Kaner time?"

Jon's eyebrows shoot up and Kaner freezes. "Me?"

"Duh," Brandon says. "You and Jonny have a house?"

Jon freezes this time. It’s not that he and Kaner share a house, exactly, but they’re not staying full time in different condos, either. He just wasn’t aware anybody else knew, much less a de-aged teammate. 

Kaner darts a glance at Jon. "We can take you to Jon's condo if you want?"

Brandon looks confused but nods. "You're coming too?"

"Yeah, kid," Kaner says. "I'm coming too."

Sharpy is still laughing, because he's a fucking tool. "Wow, you're really buying into this married thing, huh?"

"Oh fuck off, Sharpy," Jon snaps.

"No seriously," Sharpy says. He's shrugging into his jacket and grinning. "I think it's sweet."

Before they leave, Seabs and Duncs stand awkwardly in front of Jon’s stall. "You gonna be okay with this?"

Jon looks at Kaner, who still has Brandon on his hip, and looks a little too comfortable with it. "Uh, yeah?"

Resting a hand on Jon's shoulder, Seabs looks sympathetic. "Hey, we can all help on the plane ride, right?"

Jon nods, but is pretty sure he wouldn't trust any of them to look after a five-year-old kid on an airplane. He doesn't really want to do it himself, but anything's better than letting Duncs and Seabs—or, god forbid, _Sharpy_ —corrupt Brandon any more than they already have.

Kaner looks down at Brandon. “First, we need to get Little Saader some clothes.”

\---

The plane ride goes a lot better than Jon's expecting.

Brandon’s wearing Flames pajama pants and a t-shirt and hoodie swiped by one of the trainers from a local store. Jon’s not inclined to walk around with a child wearing an opponent's gear, but it’s the best they could do at short notice. He spends takeoff wriggling in his seat and sending quick, panicked looks out of the window. Jon’s usual seatmate is Kaner, but Brandon had been pretty adamant that he wanted to sit next to Jon. Kaner’s sitting across the aisle next to Shawzer, and Jon’s amusement grows every time Brandon peers around him to make sure Kaner’s still there. 

The plane is trundling down the runway when Brandon cries out, “Kaner!”

Kaner immediately leans forward in his seat. "Yeah, kiddo?"

"I don't like takeoff."

Jon's a little put out that Brandon didn't tell _him_ that, but Kaner's already nodding. "I know, kiddo. But you gotta do like the nice lady said before, and sit in your seat until we're up in the air, okay?"

Brandon hesitates for a long while, but then nods and settles back, reaching across the arm rest for Jon's hand. Jon stares down at their linked fingers.

"Uh—okay?" he asks.

Nodding, Brandon's grip tightens. "Kaner helpded me last time."

"Helped," Jon corrects gently, before he realises what Brandon's saying. There was a last time?!

Ignoring the death grip Brandon has on his hand, Jon leans across the aisle. "He says you helped him last time?"

Kaner's looking down at the in-flight magazine, and he doesn’t look up as he flips the page. "Not as a kid, dumbass. He doesn't like plane takeoffs is all."

Jon frowns. "He's never said anything before."

Finally looking up from the magazine, Kaner raises his eyebrows, snorting. "Not to you. When someone idolizes you, it can be tough to—"

"Oh fuck off," Jon says, talking over him. "I was just—"

Kaner nods. "I know, dude. Maybe he doesn't want you to think less of him or whatever. Just hold his hand and try and smile or something."

"I smile," Jon says, offended.

" _I_ know that." Kaner's tone is heavy with meaning, and Jon gets it.

He turns back to Brandon and feels the plane start to shudder. "We're gonna take off soon, but uh—we'll be fine if you keep holding my hand."

"Promise?" Brandon says, eyes wide.

"Promise." Jon watches Brandon nod, like he's self satisfied, and then he sucks in a breath.

Brandon makes little whimpering noises as the plane finally takes off, fingers white against Jon’s. "I don't like this," he says, his voice rising higher. “I don’t like this!”

Jon doesn't know what to say. He's good with kids, but he's never quite known how to comfort them when something's wrong. "I—"

"Hey," Kaner says, his voice lifting over the din of the plane, and Brandon leans forward. "Why don't you tell Jonny things about hockey?"

"What things?" Brandon asks, blinking up at Jon, looking wide-eyed.

"Your best things," Jon says, latching onto the subject. "What do you like most?"

As Brandon launches into talking about all things hockey, his grip on Jon's fingers lessens and he starts to grin. Jon breathes out slowly, and sends Kaner a grateful smile.

\---

As soon as they're in the air, Brandon climbs into Jon's lap and Kaner comes back across the aisle to slip into the spare seat. Shaw doesn't look put-out by the abandonment, sticking his head between the seats to start giving Bollig and Leddy shit.

As Kaner settles back in his chair, Brandon leans over and curls his fist in Kaner's hoodie. "Thank you for helping me with flying."

"No problem, buddy. You want some crayons?"

Brandon screws up his face. "Crayons?"

"You wanna draw? Or watch something?" Kaner pulls out his iPad. "I might have some cartoons on this thing."

Jon snorts. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Don't be a hater." Kaner brings up his videos and Brandon pokes at the screen. "That one? You sure?"

Brandon nods, and Jon leans over to see _Bambi_ on the screen. Oh geez.

"Bambi? Really?"

Kaner opens his mouth to say something, but Seabs' voice drifts between the seats. "That movie ruined my childhood, man."

"Bambi?" Shaw says, from across the aisle. "I haven't seen that since I was a kid. When the mom gets killed—"

"The mommy dies?" Brandon says, bottom lip wobbling again.

Great. "Thanks, Shawzer."

"Hey!" Shaw says, as Bollig punches him in the shoulder. "I didn't know he'd never seen it!"

"Maybe he doesn't remember?" Leddy puts in. "Like, how does this de-aging shit even work?"

"Bad word," Brandon mutters, as he settles back against Jon. A good-natured argument starts up amongst the guys about de-aging, and the merits (or not) thereof, and Jon once again has to remind himself that being the Captain of this team is a blessing. He’s mostly successful. 

Kaner's still poking at his iPad, but he scrolls past Bambi, bringing up an episode of—fucking hell, is that _Spongebob_? "How about this?"

Brandon says, "Yes!"

Jon says, "Really, Patrick?"

Kaner flips him off behind Brandon's back.

\---

A couple of episodes in, Brandon falls asleep. He's curled up on Jon's lap, his head resting on Kaner's thigh. The armrest between them is shoved up, and even Kaner's starting to list against Jon’s shoulder.

"Hey," Jon says, nudging Kaner. He really needs to pee. 

Kaner blinks lazily for a couple of seconds and then frowns. "What?"

"I gotta pee, asshole," Jon says, gesturing down at Brandon.

"Oh, god, give him here." Kaner doesn't wait for Jon to comply, just starts to rouse Brandon a little. "Hey, kiddo, Jonny needs to use the bathroom."

Brandon mumbles something but lets Kaner tug him into his lap, almost immediately resting his head in the crook of Kaner's neck.

Jon unbuckles his seatbelt and leaves them to it, not wanting to see if Brandon wakes up enough to become one of those tantrum-throwing kids. As he makes his way between the seats, most of the guys are dozing, or watching shit on iPads. Near the back of the plane, Sharpy asks, "Everything alright, Toe-ez?"

"Fine," Jon says. He punches Sharpy lightly in the arm and then makes his way into the bathroom.

When he gets back to his seat, he's a little startled by the sight that greets him. Kaner is asleep, his head resting on a pillow shoved haphazardly against the window, with Brandon fully in his lap. Brandon's face is pressed into Kaner's neck, one hand curled into the pocket of his hoodie, and sucking the thumb of his other.

Jon hears the click of a phone camera, and looks up to see Sharpy hovering in the aisle, taking pictures. "What the hell?"

Sharpy holds up his hands, but he's got an odd look on his face. "Just followed you back to say hi."

"Well don't," Jon snaps. He’s mostly embarrassed by whatever look must be on his face. It’s not the first time Sharpy’s caught him looking at Kaner in such a way, and it’s probably not the last. And what the fuck ever, Kaner looks comfortable with Brandon is all.

Thankfully, Sharpy drifts away and Jon settles back into his chair. Now that Kaner's asleep, Jon picks up his iPad and scrolls through Kaner's shit, laughing at the cartoons but not surprised by anything he finds. He's pretty sure he has way more Disney movies than he'd ever admit to on his shelves at home, mostly because Patrick leaves them behind all the fucking time. He brings up an episode of Spongebob (whatever, it's _funny_ ), and settles back. A third of the way through the episode, Kaner starts to list again, this time towards Jon. Jon contemplates pushing him gently back towards the window, but it's not like he and Kaner have never done this before, so he waits for Kaner to settle against his shoulder, Brandon still deep asleep against Kaner's chest. Jon's aware of what they look like, and glares at anyone who looks even remotely like they want to break out their phones to snap pictures. It doesn’t take long for everyone to get the message.

\---

The rest of the flights passes quickly, and pretty soon the announcement goes out that they're about to start landing.

Jon doesn't want to wake Kaner and Brandon up, but he knows Kaner has to go back to his seat, so he nudges them both gently. "Hey, Kaner."

Kaner mumbles something indistinct and presses his face back into Jon's neck. Brandon's fingers twitch against Kaner's hoodie.

"Kaner," Jon says, a little more forcefully. "You gotta wake up, buddy."

Eventually Kaner opens his eyes, and he gives Jon a sleepy, pleased smile. Jon's thankful nobody else can see it. When he realizes where they are, Kaner's face smooths out. "We landing?"

Jon nods.

Kaner shifts away from Jon, rousing Brandon as he does. "Hey, buddy, time to wake up."

Brandon's face screws up, rubbing at his eyes with his fists, and Jon's chest goes tight at the sight. He’s not used to feeling like this about anyone but Patrick, and this is _Brandon_ \- Jon’s teammate who isn’t a full-time kid. 

"You up, buddy?" Jon asks.

Brandon still looks half asleep and he frowns. "We home?"

"Not quite," Jon says. "But Patrick's gotta go back to his seat."

Brandon looks like he's going to start screaming, but Kaner cuts him off at the pass, tickling him until he breaks out into giggles instead.

"I gotta go get my seatbelt on, Little Saader. You gotta strap in, too, and be a big boy for landing."

"I _am_ a big boy," Brandon protests. "I can land fine."

"Sure you can," Jon agrees. "How about you let Kaner settle in and then we can talk more hockey while we land?"

"Yeah?" Brandon's face lights up.

Kaner's eyes are crinkling in the corners as he passes Brandon over to Jonny and shuffles between them to step into the aisle. 

Jon settles Brandon and straps him in, testing the belt. "You in?"

"Jonny," Brandon whines. "I'm not going anywhere, honest. Now, hockey!"

"Sure, hockey," Jon says, amused. He catches Kaner's eye and grins at him. Kaner's answering smile is wide and bright.

\---

As they're getting off the plane, Q pulls them aside. "If you and Kaner walk through the airport with a child, it's going to draw attention."

Jon exchanges a look with Kaner and frowns. "What do you suggest?"

"Clint's offered to take Brandon through the airport and meet up with you in the parking lot. Does that work?"

"Well—"

"NO!" Brandon screams, clinging and burying his face in Jon's neck. "I wanna stay with Jonny!"

"Brandon—"

"Don't you want me?!" Brandon wails, leaning away from Jon a little so he can look him in the eye.

"Oh buddy—"

"Hey," Kaner says. He takes Brandon from Jon and sets him on the floor. Brandon curls his hands into his hoodie and looks half-ashamed, half-petulant. "I thought you said you were a big boy?"

"I am!" Brandon protests.

Kane crouches down, to be on Brandon's eye level. "Big boys don't throw tantrums, do they?"

Not answering, Brandon looks up at Jon for help. Jon just stares down at him, resting one hand on Kaner's back. Even though Brandon goes so far as to look up at Q for help, he doesn’t get help from anyone and drops his head, sighing dramatically. "No."

Kaner nods. "Good. If you go with Clint, and you're really good, we'll go for ice cream on the way home."

Jon's pretty sure both of their moms would be disgusted by bribery as a means of getting cooperation from a child, but Brandon doesn’t belong to them. He’s confident there’s some level of give there, and it’s not like they’re planning on _telling_ anyone that their teammate has de-aged and is entrusted into their care.

Brandon eyes Kaner warily.

"Pinky swear," Kaner says, to appease him, holding up his pinky.

Q smothers a smile behind his hand and even Jon's lip is curling upwards as Brandon says, "You gotta never break your promises."

"Never," Kaner says, linking their pinkie fingers.

"Good." Brandon shakes and then lets go, throwing his arms around Kaner's neck.

He makes sure to do the same to Jon before taking Q's hand. As they walk down the tunnel, he looks back over his shoulder until he's out of sight.

There’s collective cooing from their right, and Jon turns on his heel. "Oh fuck off."

Sharpy's outright laughing at them. "Relax, Jon. It's our little Kaner, playing parent." He drapes himself over Kaner and pinches his cheek. "Growing up so fast."

"You're an asshole," Kaner says, but he's laughing as he ducks out from under Sharpy's arm and nudges Jon in the stomach. "Come on, loser. Let's go."

\---

They're on their way through security when Kaner frowns. "Dude, do we need a carseat or something?"

Jon pauses. They obviously haven’t put much thought into this, and there's clearly more to this child business than just taking him home and occupying his time until he changes back into an adult.

Sharpy, who's standing behind them, shrugs easily. "I should have Maddy's in the back of my car. You guys can take that one for now."

"You sure?" Jon asks. "Don't you need that yourself?"

"We have another one in Abby's car." Sharpy frowns a little. "You need anything else?"

Jon's seriously thinking about it when Kaner says, "No thanks. We can do this."

"Easy, Peeks, I'm not saying you can’t."

Jon looks between Sharpy's surprised expression and Kaner's oddly vehement one. "Move, Kaner," he says, pushing Kaner gently forward. He looks back over his shoulder. "We'll be fine."

Sharpy doesn't look very convinced, but it's not like he was rushing to take Brandon off their hands, so whatever.

They get through the rest of O'Hare with minimal fuss, and part ways with the rest of the guys at the parking lot, pausing only long enough to grab the car seat from Sharpy. Clint is leaning against Kaner's Hummer when they approach, Brandon's little hand tucked into his. The kid is shivering and shit, they didn't really think about that.

"Do we need to go out and buy shit?" Kaner asks, picking up on the same thing. "How long is he even going to be a kid?"

Jon shrugs. Money isn't really an issue, though, so he says, "We'll grab stuff on the way home. Come on."

Brandon catches sight of them and shouts, wrenching his hand out of Clint's and stepping forward into the road.

"Wait!" Kaner and Jon shout simultaneously, at the same time Clint runs forward and grabs Brandon from the road.

Brandon's eyes are wide and well up as Jon and Kaner jog across the road. Clint hands Brandon over as soon they step up onto the curb, and Brandon buries his face in Jon's neck and starts wailing.

"You can't run out in the road," Jon says, over Brandon's cries. "You might get hurt, buddy."

Kaner's thanking Clint quietly and shaking his hand as Jon shushes Brandon, rubbing his back. It takes Kaner loading the car with their luggage and gear to calm Brandon down. He pulls his head away from Jon's neck and sticks his thumb in his mouth. "Sorry," he says around it, eyes red.

"We were just worried, Little Saader." Kaner ruffles his hair, wiping down his eyes. "You gotta always wait around roads, okay?"

Brandon nods.

"Good."

\---

The ride home from the airport goes well enough. Jon keeps peering back over the seat to keep an eye on Brandon, who's busy looking out the window and giving commentary on everything he sees. Kaner hates driving, but he'd taken the driver's seat with minimal fuss, mostly because Jon hates driving the Hummer.

"Stop at Target," Jon says. "We'll grab some clothes for him."

"And food," Kaner says, giving Jon a judgemental look. "Pretty sure your fridge is empty, dude."

"If it is, it's because you've eaten all the shit in it," Jon grumbles. He doesn't really mind. Kaner usually only stocks Jon's fridge with stuff he's actually going to eat, and always keeps on top of throwing shit out when it goes out of date.

Kaner snorts but does as Jon asks, and pulls into Target on their way back to Jon's condo.

They don’t have a lot of time, because the store's about to close, but Kaner is the one who runs into the store while Jon stays behind in the car with Brandon. Before he shuts the door, Brandon yells, “Hawks pajamas!” out of the window, and Kaner promises him with a grin. Jon turns in his seat, looking past the headrest at Brandon. 

“You don’t like the Flames pajama pants, huh?”

Brandon pulls a face. “Nuh-uh.” 

“It’s okay, buddy,” Jon assures him. “We’ll have you in Hawks stuff as soon as possible.”

“Yay!” Brandon sits back in the car seat and grins up at Jon. 

Jon doesn’t have to entertain Brandon for too long before Kaner’s jogging back across the car park, a Target bag in hand.

\---

"M'tired," Brandon says as they get out of the elevator. He's got his hand tight in Kaner's as Jon carries their luggage and the bags from Target. They're going to have to make another trip to get their gear, but Jon thinks they can probably wait until tomorrow to do that.

Kaner gets out his keys and unlocks the door. "I know, buddy. We can have a nap when we get inside, okay?"

"Sleep," Jon says. "We're going to sleep."

It's fuck o'clock in the morning and Jon's really fucking tired. He's not napping when they don't have training in the morning. They're not flying out to Edmonton, so they've got the whole weekend. 

Dumping their luggage inside the bedroom door, Jon makes his way through the condo to the spare room, where Brandon's sitting on the edge of the bed, watching Kaner pull sheets from the cupboard.

"You want blue or brown, buddy?"

Brandon makes a face. "Brown?"

Jon watches as Kaner grabs the sheets and wraps Brandon up in them, lifting him into his arms. Brandon giggles, kicking his legs and squealing, "Kaner, stop!"

"I dunno, Little Saader. This is pretty fun."

"Jonny!" Brandon shouts. "Jonny, make him stop!"

Kaner looks over at him, still grinning like an idiot. His hair is all stuck up from the horseplay, and he looks tired but he’s happy. Jon steps forward and grabs Brandon's flailing feet.

"Are you sure?" Jon asks.

"Yes," Brandon manages, through his laughs. "Put me down!"

Kaner snorts and puts Brandon down on the bed, feet first. When he tugs down the blankets, Brandon's face is red, but he's smiling wide and still giggling a little.

"Are you two like this all the time?"

Kaner and Jon exchange a look. "Silly?" Kaner asks.

Brandon tilts his head. "Happy."

"Uh." Jon isn't quite sure how to answer that.

Thankfully, Kaner pokes Brandon in the stomach. "We are, buddy. You happy?"

"When I‘m big again," Brandon supplies. "I'll be best!"

Jon feels a little pang at that. "You want to be big again?"

"Duh," Brandon says. "I gotta be big to help you win the cup!"

After convincing Brandon that big boys who want to win cups have to go to sleep, he seems willing enough to get ready for bed. Kaner goes through the Target bag looking for the pajamas they bought, and holds them up for Brandon to see. They have pucks and hockey sticks on them.

“I wanted Blackhawks!” Brandon says, bottom lip wibbling. 

“Hey, kiddo,” Kaner says. “They didn’t have your size, okay?”

“But there’s a _store_.” It’s more wail than statement and Jon winces.

“We’re not driving to the Loop to get you some this late.” Kaner crouches down, and Jon’s once again struck by the way Kaner’s always getting on Brandon’s eye level. “You wear these instead and we’ll get you some later, if you’re good.”

“Okay.” Brandon takes them reluctantly, but runs into the bathroom. Kaner holds up a toothbrush and kid's toothpaste and Jon takes them, following Brandon. "You gotta clean your teeth too, buddy."

Jon supervises the brushing of teeth, and Brandon exclaims that he can, "pee by myself, Jonny!" and stares at him until Jon turns his back.

"You done?" Jon asks, when Brandon tugs on the leg of his pants.

"Yes, and washed my hands."

Jon just ruffles his hair and guides him back into the bedroom. Kaner's sitting on the edge of Brandon's bed, holding his iPad.

He waves it at Brandon. "You wanna story or something before bed?"

"Nope." Brandon climbs onto the bed, shuffling down inside the covers and resting his hands on top. "I wanna watch hockey!"

Jon snorts, and Kaner grins. "Kiddo, you can't watch an _entire_ game. You wanna watch someone's awesome goal?"

He wiggles his eyebrows, like _that's_ going to be enough to get Brandon to choose _his_ goals.

"Game six winner!" Brandon crows, and Kaner shoots Jon finger guns and god, he's so awful, but Jon's grinning like an idiot anyway.

"Fine," Jon says, pretending that it's a hard choice. "I suppose that's acceptable."

"Don't front," Kaner says, kicking him in the ankle. "That goal was baller."

Jon looks non-committal. "I guess."

Kaner flips him off where Brandon can't see, but Jon drops down on the bed next to him as he brings up the Stanley Cup final.

\---

"He's supposed to idolise _me_ ," Jon complains, as he walks into the their bedroom, only half joking. He's been pretty pleased that Saad chose him to learn from, when most of the new rookies flock to Kaner. Then again, Saad is a little different from the usual rookies that circulate into Chicago. It's a good thing—makes them more diverse—but also means that he's a little put out by Brandon's obsession with all things Kaner when he's a _kid_.

Kaner's already in bed, spread-eagled like a douchebag. Jon kicks his legs out of the way and slides under the covers. "Calm your shit, that little kid in there practically wants to be you."

"I'm just saying," Jon says. He's not whining, okay. He just doesn't understand. "He's stuck to you like glue."

Kaner lets out a slow breath and turns on his side, shifting back into the curve of Jon's body, and Jon throws an arm around his waist. "I don't know, man. Kid's always been aware of his age around you. Maybe he's subconsciously afraid of behaving too much like a child."

That makes a surprising amount of sense, but Jon doesn't say so. "Whatever. I'm not that mad."

Laughing out loud, Kaner grabs Jon's hand and holds it close to his stomach. "You're a fucking _liar_."

Jon buries his smile in Kaner's hair, but he thinks Kaner might know anyway.

They're woken not two hours later by the door creaking open. Jon opens one eye. Brandon's standing in the doorway, the corner of his pajama top sticking out of his mouth. Kaner mumbles something Jon can't hear, and lifts up his side of the duvet. Brandon pads across the bed and climbs up, sliding into the bed, facing Kaner.

"You okay, kiddo?" Jon asks.

"S'dark," Brandon says, attempting a whisper but missing by a mile. "Scared."

"It's okay to be scared of the dark, Little Sadder." Kaner admits, ruffling his hair. "See how we have the door open?"

The bathroom door is ajar and light is visible from the bottom and side.

Brandon nods. "Yeah. You get scared too?"

Kaner sucks in a breath. Jon rubs his hip. They've been rooming together for years, and they were rookies when Kaner first explained that, "I just need some fucking light, man." A few months later, Kaner admitted that he was scared of the dark, whispering furiously, his back to Jon. The next night, Jon had flipped the light on without prompting, and that had been that.

"I do, kiddo," Kaner says, eventually. It has to be the first person he's admitted that to in a while.

"Well, you got me ‘n’ Jonny now?"

Jon kisses the back of Kaner's neck, and Kaner squeezes his hand.

Brandon falls asleep quickly, and it's not until Kaner's breath evens back out that Jon closes his eyes and follows.

\---

Jon wakes up to an empty bed. He doesn't panic; he can hear talking from the kitchen. Stretching, he relaxes back into the bed and contemplates lying there for a little longer. The clock next to his bed reads 9:30, so he's already been lazier than he should have been, but it's not like they've got anywhere to be.

When he finally gets out of bed and makes his way to the kitchen, he hovers in the doorway. Brandon's sitting on the edge of the kitchen island, breaking eggs into a bowl. Kaner's standing next to him, one hand on his back, and an egg beater in the other.

"Kaner?" Brandon asks, pushing the broken shells back into the box.

"Yeah?" Kaner's distracted, holding the handle of the beater and giving it to Brandon. "Let's do this together, huh?"

Brandon nods, and allows Kaner to stand behind him, helping him hold the egg beater and the bowl at the same time. "Are you and Jonny in the same bed all the time?"

Jon freezes. He doesn't know exactly where Brandon's going with this, but he's not sure he likes it.

Kaner's eyes have gone a little wide, but he keeps moving his hands. "Uh, sometimes, buddy."

"Oh." Brandon gives the whisk a good shake. "The eggs look okay?" He tips his head back against Kaner's chest and smiles.

"Yeah," Kaner breathes, his grin a little wide.

Brandon nods, satisfied and then says, "It's okay. The bed? I knew before but I kept it a secret."

Jon closes his eyes. _God_. He knows that he and Kaner have relaxed a lot lately, but he wasn't aware they'd done so _that_ much. Not that they're afraid of their teammates finding out, but they're just not—

Jon doesn't even know what they _are_ , much less what they're not.

"That's great buddy, thanks."

"S'okay," Brandon hands Kaner the bowl. "Making eggs now?"

Jon should probably move forward and make his presence known, but he watches a little longer, trying to collect his thoughts. Kaner's rolling with it, which isn't unusual, and pours the eggs into the frying pan.

Brandon pushes a mug of coffee out of the way—one that Jon is assuming is for him, considering Kaner prefers his with more cream—and swings his legs around. "Are the eggs axe—axe-ept—okay for cooking?"

"Acceptable," Kaner says, and watches Brandon repeat it back triumphantly before nodding. "You bet, Little Saader. Jon's gonna love his eggs."

"He better," Brandon says, and Jon can't help the smile spreading across his face. He's surprised neither of them have seen him yet, but Kaner's busy with the stove, body twisted so that he still has Brandon in view, and Brandon is still shifting on the island. Jon's half afraid he's going to fall—he takes a step forward as Brandon leans over and balances precariously on the edge.

Kaner turns, shifting Brandon back and looking at him sternly. "Hey buddy, what did I say about leaning?"

"You told me to ask to get down if I want to see better," Brandon says, dutifully.

Jon's still watching, amazed by the effortlessness with which Kaner is dealing with a kid. He's one of the few people who gets to see this side of Kaner, the one he seems afraid of showing for whatever reason. Deciding that he's spied enough, Jon clears his throat.

Brandon's head snaps up and he holds out his arms. "Down, Jonny! Down!"

Kaner snorts, turning back to the stove. Jon crosses the kitchen and immediately picks Brandon up, settling him down on the floor and resting a hand on Brandon’s head as he starts chattering about making eggs and helping out Kaner with his coffee.

Jon holds up the mug with his free hand and makes a show of taking a sip. "Tastes great, buddy."

Jon figures he should probably be a little more weirded out by how familial and domestic this feels, but he's not sure he's up to analyzing _why_. Things have been good with Kaner for a long time now, and while it's been slow and surprising, Jon's not been oblivious to the subtle way Kaner's been steadily bringing his stuff over more and more.

While eating, Brandon seated between them at the island, they ask him what he wants to do for the rest of the day.

He shovels eggs in at record speed and looks thoughtful, so neither Kaner nor Jon press him. Jon's determined to get them to the rink on Sunday, even if it's only for an hour or so, because he's not happy with missing out on playoff prep. They can always grab some skates and gear for Brandon, even if they do nothing with it after. If they get really lucky, he might even have changed back into himself by the following morning.

"Cartoons," Brandon exclaims when he's done, placing his fork neatly on his plate and pushing it away. "Can we watch movies?"

Jon rolls his eyes, but Kaner's looking pretty happy with the decision. Jon's not surprised; any time Kaner can get away with chilling on the couch and doing fuck all, he's there.

"Sure, buddy. But no snack foods."

He gets a dual set of wide, sad eyes and fuck everything, Jon's not equipped to deal with that look on Kaner's face when he's alone, much less when he has a friend who works the look much better than he does.

"No."

"Jonny," Brandon whines. "Please?"

"Jonny," Kaner repeats. "We promise to work out later, right buddy?"

Brandon nods vigorously. "Right!"

Jon pretends to take his time thinking about it, eating the last of his eggs before letting out a long-suffering sigh. "Fine. Popcorn. But plain, no butter."

"Yes!" Brandon fist pumps. "You're the best, Jonny."

Jon preens, smug, and gets a sharp fist to the hip for his trouble. Whatever, Jon's the _best_ , and Kaner can just deal with that.

Jon's not surprised by the amount of Disney movies that end up piled on the arm of the couch. He makes the popcorn—plain, just like he warned them—and grabs some bottles of Gatorade from the fridge and a plastic cup. Jon's not entirely sure _where_ he acquired a plastic cup, but just figured it's something else Kaner's moved over.

"Are we watching all of these?" he says, gesturing at the DVDs as he puts the snacks on the table.

Kaner and Brandon are already settled on the couch, Brandon sinking low into the cushions but turning a blinding smile on Jon as he sits down.

"You totally cry at Lilo and Stitch, man. Can't lie to me." Kaner wiggles his eyebrows and slides an arm across the back of the couch. Jon rests back against the cushions, and feels Kaner's fingers play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. He shivers a little, but covers it with, "You don't know me."

It's lame and they both know it; Kaner _does_ know him, probably better than anyone, but Kaner doesn't call him on it. He just smirks, holding up the remote and starting the movie. The menu for _Lilo and Stitch_ starts up and fuck him anyway, Jon can totally get through this without crying.

Brandon's chewing on the edge of his t-shirt when Stitch starts talking about family, and Kaner's fingers smooth down the skin of Jon's neck. Jon's struck by the scene more so than he's ever been before, and he blames it on the de-aged Brandon, because he doesn't want to examine how he's feeling too closely. He likes what he has with Kaner. It's good and they don't need—

They don't need anything else, is all.

Brandon's still kicking his legs back and forth, intent on the movies as they switch to Robin Hood. Jon's only half-watching, most of his attention on Brandon and Kaner. Kaner's watching avidly, talking scenes out with Brandon when he asks questions and being attentive. Brandon asks Jon just as many questions, one of his hands curled up in Jon's. He tucks Jon's wrist against his stomach, and his eyes widen as the fox on screen masquerading as Robin Hood agrees to die for Marian.

"Is he going to die?"

Kaner uses his free hand to rub Brandon's arm. "He'll be fine."

"But he loves the lady fox?" Brandon's brow furrows. "He would die for her?"

"Sometimes," Jon says, "when you love someone, it's special, isn't it?"

Brandon keeps frowning. "I don't think I could ever love someone like that."

Jon smiles gently. "That's okay. You're still young."

"You’re young," Brandon points out. "And you love Kaner."

Kaner peers over the top of Brandon's head, looking both amused and apprehensive.

"Well," Jon says, pausing to think about his answer. He's never said outright that he _loves_ Kaner, but he knows— _hopes_ —that he’s always know anyway. "I would get hit for him."

"On ice?" Brandon nods. "That's okay. Sometimes you gotta hurt people when they hurt the person you love."

"That's right," Jon says, ruffling Brandon's hair.

Kaner's still looking at him, his eyes crinkling in the corners. He threads his fingers further into Jon's hair and scratches his fingers lightly against Jon's scalp. Jon presses into it, and turns his attention back to the movie.

They break after that for lunch. While Jon and Brandon make sandwiches in the kitchen, Kaner pulls up the next movie.

"Can we play hockey tomorrow?" Brandon asks, placing the turkey on the bread.

"Sure we can, buddy," Jon says. "We'll get you some skates, yeah?"

"Yeah!" Brandon grins. "And a jersey?"

Jon's lip twitches. "I don't know how long you'll need it, buddy. If you're still little by the end of the weekend, we'll get you one, okay?"

Brandon pouts, but thankfully he just nods and waits patiently for Jon to cut the bread.

They work their way through the sandwiches and two more movies. Jon pulls out his phone halfway through _Tangled_ because he's not the biggest fan, but Kaner's always claimed to have a kinship with Rapunzel, not that Jon can fathom why. Rapunzel has infinitely better hair, she's pure at heart, and loves effortlessly. (Okay, so Kaner's got a good heart when he's not acting like a total dickbag, and he loves effortlessly. Jon's been fairly sure that that's part of his problem. He still has a point about the hair, though.)

"She has a super hot boyfriend," Kaner points out, while Brandon's watching the glowing lantern scene, mouth half-open and leaning forward.

"Well, I guess you do have that in common," Jon agrees, easily.

Kaner snorts. "Eh."

"Don't front, Peeks," Jon says, wiggling his eyebrows. "I'm a catch."

" _God_ ," Kaner says, laughing. "Don't do that again."

"What's a catch?" Brandon asks, his eyes still on the TV.

"It means he thinks he's beautiful."

Brandon looks up at Jon, then, and squints. "Not as beautiful as Sharpy."

And that, Jon thinks, is enough chirping material on Saader for a laugh time.

It's only when dinner time rolls around that Brandon pitches his first tantrum. He wants Kraft mac & cheese, and no amount of soothing on Kaner's or Jon's part will get him to stop.

"Fuck this," Kaner says, looking worn out. "Just go get some fucking Kraft from the store."

Jon knows it's bad to give in to a tantrum like this. "We can't just _give in_."

Kaner gives him an incredulous look. "Fine, then _you_ talk him down."

To be fair, Kaner's been the one trying to reason with Brandon, because Jon's stern glares and telling-off did fuck all. He's not used to being in this position. Kaner's tantrums are infinitely easier to deal with, and whenever someone has issues on the team, Jon can sort that out easily enough. Five-year-olds are much more difficult to reason with.

"Go," Kaner says, shoving Jon towards the door. "I'll deal with the little man, go and get the fucking dinner."

\---

Whatever Kaner says while Jon's out getting the mac and cheese must do the trick. Jon pushes open the door, and yells to let them know he's home. He doesn't get a reply, so he dumps the food on the island and makes his way through the condo. He finds Kaner and Brandon sacked out on the couch, Brandon clutching at Kaner's neck like a lifeline, and both of Kaner's arms tucking Brandon against his body. Jon feels a pang that's an awful lot like _want_ , and he shoves that down quickly. He doesn't let them sleep long, just enough to get their dinner ready and boot up the next movie. He chooses _The Aristocats_ , because everyone loves kittens, and shaking them awake.

Brandon looks up at him with wide eyes and then back at Kaner, who nods, looking as stern as Jon's ever seen him. "I'm sorry I was naughty, Jonny.”

"Good boy," Kaner says, ruffling his hair.

Jon looks down at Brandon, not giving anything away. "I went to get you mac and cheese."

"I knew that," Brandon says, shifting off of Kaner's lap and sitting on the edge of the couch, his legs dangling over the edge. "Kaner said I had to say sorry for making you get it. And I won't be naughty again, I promise."

Jon crouches down and curls his fingers around Brandon's ankles. "You know you did something wrong, so you learned from it, didn't you?"

Brandon nods. "Yes."

"Good." Jon tickles Brandon's ankles and grins when Brandon giggles. "How about we wait for dinner and then watch another movie?"

"Yeah!" Brandon says, throwing his arms around Jon's neck.

When Jon meets Kaner's eyes, he catches sight of the wistful expression on his face, and doesn't know what to do about it.

\---

By the time the credits roll on the last movie, Kaner and Brandon are both asleep again. Brandon's curled up in Jon's lap, his head pillowed on Jon's shoulder, and arms tucked down between their bodies. Kaner's tipped sideways, his legs tucked up underneath him on the couch, face pressed into Jon's neck.

Both of them are drooling, but Jon can't bring himself to complain too much about it. He's getting a cramp, though, so he nudges Kaner with his elbow. Grumbling, Kaner doesn't really wake up, just moves away from Jon and stretches out, faceplanting into the cushions.

Endeared more than he wants to be, Jon just shifts Brandon a little until he's settled on his hip and climbs to his feet. Brandon's a dead weight, but Jon bypasses the guest room and takes Brandon straight through to his—and Kaner's—bedroom. Jon manages to get Brandon into his pajamas with fairly little effort, and says a silent thanks to whoever that Brandon sleeps like the dead. Jon's had plenty of practice with Kaner—who has the same trait—and the amount of times he's had to wrestle Kaner out of clothes and put him to bed is great practice.

He starts to wake a little as Jon tucks him in and opens the bathroom door, flipping on the light so that Brandon's not completely in the dark. "Night, Jonny," Brandon says, rolling over and sticking his thumb in his mouth.

"Night, kiddo."

When Jon gets back to the living room, Kaner's still sprawled out on the couch. Jon contemplates sitting on him, but Kaner lifts a hand and waves it around until he can grab hold of Jon's. "Mmff."

"You have to lift your head so I can understand you, asshole," Jon says, fondly.

Kaner does, squinting up at Jon. "He asleep?"

Jon nods, and waits for Kaner to shuffle back enough that he can sit down. Almost immediately, Kaner flops back onto him, face turned towards his stomach, and hand still tight around Jon's.

"Want you," Kaner says.

Jon eyes him, trying to gauge how daring Kaner's being. Jon _does_ feel the same, but that doesn’t change the fact that one of their teammates is sleeping feet away, de-aged or not. Besides, Kaner looks exhausted.

"I know," Jon says gently, running his hand through Kaner's hair. "Guess you'll have to resist me for a little while longer."

Kaner exhales a quick rush of breath in a laugh. "Such a hardship."

He's aiming for mocking, but it comes out a little put-out. Jon sighs, sliding one of his hands up Kaner's t-shirt, running his fingers over the smooth planes of Kaner's muscled back. Kaner sinks into it, letting out a soft noise and keeping his eyes closed.

"Won't be long," Jon says, hoping that he's not wrong.

"Good," Kaner breathes. He's asleep between one breath and the next, and Jon resigns himself to yet another person he's going to have to wrestle into sleeping clothes tonight.

\---

Despite setting an alarm for the morning so that they could get their skate in early, he still manages to ignore it for long enough that Kaner grumbles in his ear about his laziness, and Brandon jumps up and down on the bed.

"Hockey, Jonny! Hockey!"

"Yeah, buddy," Jon says, but it comes out muffled by pillows. He's dimly aware of Kaner telling Brandon to go watch cartoons, and then feels a heavy body drape over his back. "Come on, lazy."

Kaner's breathing in his ear and it should be gross, but Jon's mostly used to it by now.

"Fuck mornings."

"Playoffs," Kaner says, sing-song. "Get your fat ass up, Toews, we gotta get in shape."

"Fuck you, I'm in shape," Jon shoots back, coming awake with every word.

When he turns his head to look, Kaner's grinning and Jon has to kiss the smirk right off of his fucking face.

Making out with Kaner always promises to turn into something more, but Brandon is watching cartoons in the next room, and Jon's not into traumatizing five-year-olds just because he wants to fuck his boyfriend. _Really_ badly.

"Stop," Jon says, biting at Kaner's bottom lip one last time.

Kaner groans but pulls away. "Fuck. This is the worst."

Jon frowns. He's hasn’t really stopped to think about whether Kaner's happy with this. He's saved from having to ask by Kaner poking him in the chest. "Shut up, I don't mean Brandon. I just wanna..."

He trails off, but his eyes are dark, and Jon's not going to pretend they're not half-hard.

"I promise, after," Jon says, kissing Kaner one last time.

Kaner pulls away from him, rolling off his body and sighing dramatically. "Guess I can wait."

It's not like Jon wants to, either.

\---

Brandon's almost vibrating with excitement by the time they finally leave the condo, chattering about skating, playing and being back on the ice. He sounds enough like Saader that Jon feels a pang of loss for a second. It's dumb. Brandon is _right here_ , except for how he's not.

They're not going to be alone on the ice; Jon knows some of the other guys who didn't go to Edmonton are coming in to practice and it's pretty informal.

They stop off to get Brandon some skates from a local skate shop, before making their way to the locker room where Shaw, Bollig and Leddy are already getting changed.

All three of them immediately crowd around Brandon, who's a little overwhelmed at first, but pretty soon he's fistbumping Shawzer and talking about all the movies they watched yesterday.

Jon absolutely does not feel embarrassed about watching Disney movies with Kaner and Brandon, but he turns his back on them anyway and changes quickly.

"Jonny, I needs to get my skates on." Brandon says, waving his skates around.

"Careful," Jon warns. "You might hurt someone."

Brandon immediately clutches the skates to his chest. "Sorry, Jonny."

Kaner, who's already in his gear, holds out his hands. "Come here, Little Saader. We'll get your skates on and then Jonny and you can play one-on-one."

Brandon walks over, mindful of the skates in his arms, and allows Kaner to pull him into his lap.

Jon's aware of the silence from the other three, and looks up to see identical expressions of shock and amusement. "What?"

"You're being even more disgustingly domestic than normal," Sharpy says, as he walks through the door.

Jon flips him off and Sharpy just laughs.

"How's the Manchild child?" 

Oh for fuck's sake. " _Brandon_ is fine."

"Oh, it's _Brandon_ ," Shawzy says, because he's obviously taking lessons from Sharpy on how to be a grade A asshole.

"Brandon's acting with more maturity than the three of you combined," Jon points out.

Brandon's tying his laces with directions from Kaner, and Jon doesn't want to analyze how he feels about that too much.

Before they go out onto the ice, and after more of the guys have trickled into the locker room, Sharpy pulls Jon aside.

"Seriously, how's it going?"

Jon shrugs. "Good. He threw a tantrum last night, but—"

"If you want me to take him—"

"No," Jon says, with more vehemence than he means to. Sharpy looks surprised, but it quickly morphs into amusement. "What?"

Sharpy just shrugs. "Taken to the little man, huh?"

"It's none of your fucking business," Jon says, but it lacks any heat.

It's not that Jon's getting attached to Brandon, except for how it's _exactly_ like that. He's not comfortable with the fact that he's not entirely sure he wants Brandon to change back. It's a stupid thing to think, because obviously they need Brandon back, but Jon's kinda taken to him is all.

It's only been a fucking _day_ since he changed; this entire thing is ridiculous.

"Hey, Tazer," Sharpy is saying. "You in there?"

"Yes," Jon says, shaking his head a little. "We're fine."

"If you say so," Sharpy says, but he looks less sure than he did a second ago.

\---

Brandon and Kaner are already on the ice when Jon follows Sharpy out of the tunnel. Q's in Edmonton, and although Jon's run practices before, he's aware that Brandon's _five_ and that it's really fucking difficult to make this as intense as he wants to. Besides, most of the guys are already running drills, so he lets himself relax a little.

Kaner's skating over by the benches, grinning at Clint as he hands over one of the kid sticks. Jon doesn't think too hard about the tightness in his chest as Kaner bends down to hand Brandon his stick and keeps one hand on his shoulder as they skate away. Jon joins them, knocking Kaner on the back of the legs with his stick and then bending at the waist. "How's it going, buddy?"

Brandon gives them both a testy look. "I’ve been playing hockey since I was little. I can do it."

He skates away and yeah, he's wobbly, but he skates well, keeping his stick low to the ground and throwing proud looks at them. "You gonna start with me?"

"Chirping, Little Saader?" Kaner says, kicking a puck with his skate towards Brandon. Brandon cradles it against his stick and grins.

"Come and get me?" He skates away, squealing as both Jon and Kaner skate after him.

They spend a little time playing keep away, and Jon's not too concerned with training too hard, considering a five-year-old is energetic enough to keep them on their toes.

"You wanna take shots on goal?" Jon asks, gesturing at Crow, who is between the pipes.

Brandon nods eagerly. "I got this."

He steals the puck away from them, and Jon glances quickly at Kaner. Kaner's looking after Brandon with a half-smile on his face, but it's usually a smile he keeps solely for Jon. Jon doesn't know what to make of that.

"You alright there Kaner?"

Kaner blinks and nods. "Fine."

He looks like he has something else to say, but a cheer goes up around the rink. Brandon's skating away from the goal, arms in the air and grinning.

"Did you see that?!"

Jon nods. "We sure did, buddy."

They both hold out their hands for a high five, which Brandon gives them before skating back around, stealing a puck from a barely resistant Sharpy, and deking back towards the goal.

"You wouldn't think he was five, huh?" Jon asks.

Kaner shrugs. "Shades of Saader." He elbows Jon in the side. "Gonna miss him, huh?"

Jon shrugs, but he thinks Kaner knows he means _yes_ anyway. He doesn't want to think about it, so he skates away from Kaner and pretends to try and steal the puck from Brandon.

Practice passes quickly, guys leaving the ice once they're content with their workout, and pretty soon it's just Brandon, Kaner and Jon on the ice.

"You ready to get out of here, Little Saader?" Kaner's leaning against the boards, watching Jon and Brandon pass the puck between them.

"No!" Brandon looks between them both with an expression of horror on his face. "I want to keep playing!"

Jon sighs. "We aren't allowed to stay here all day, Brandon. Other people have to use the ice."

Pouting, Brandon drops his head, but thankfully doesn't throw another tantrum.

"Plus," Kaner says, knocking his stick against Jon’s ass and wiggling his eyebrows. "I gotta go get my hair cut."

Brandon looks up at him, eyes wide. "Because Sharpy says you look like a monster?"

Kaner's mouth drops open and Jon laughs, delighted. "What? He did not!"

"He did too," Brandon says, tilting his chin. "Said it in the locker room after we played in Cal- after the flames."

"Oh he did, huh?" Kaner says, throwing a glare in the direction of the locker room. "Well, maybe I'll show him by getting another _mullet_."

"No," Jon says, horrified.

"Yes!" Brandon cheers. And then, to Jon's horror, adds, "Can I get one too?"

\---

No amount of protestation on Jon's part will budge Brandon's decision to "look like Kaner," so he has to settle for grumbling quietly. It's one thing for Kaner to corrupt his own rookies, but not _Jon's_. Kaner's got his feet up against the dash, which isn't something Jon really wants him to teach Brandon is acceptable, but Brandon's still talking loudly about getting a mullet even though when Jon asked, he didn’t know what a mullet was. Nobody ever knows quite what they’re getting into with Kaner.

"He's _five_ ," Jon protests. "He's going to regret it when he changes back."

"No!" Brandon says. "I know what I want!"

"See?" Kaner says, with a cocky grin. "Cut the kid a break, Jon. He knows how to make adult decisions."

"Did I mention that he's five?" Jon throws Kaner a glare and then focuses back on the road. He absolutely does not want to be doing this, but he's been weighing putting his foot down against dealing with another tantrum. "I really want to pull the captain card right now," he says quietly, hoping Brandon can't hear him.

To his surprise, Kaner actually looks a little contrite. "I wouldn't do this if I thought Brandon would have a problem with it when he changes back. Give me some credit, man."

"I do, constantly," Jon says, long-sufferingly, but he hopes Kaner can read the sincerity in it.

\---

Parking near the 316 club is damn near impossible, so they park the car back at Jon's condo building and walk back to The Loop. It's a little bit risky, considering Jon and Kaner are both notable, but they have the cover story of Brandon being Clint's nephew which they can fall back on if anyone sees them out and about.

Jon does make sure to text Q about Brandon's parents actually knowing whether or not their son has de-aged, and on confirmation that they don't, makes sure to settle a cap on Brandon's head and pray that nobody gets any really great pictures of them.

"Dude, they’ll be grainy phone twitter shots at most. Besides, if Little Saader's parents call, we'll just tell them the truth."

Jon's skeptical about the entire thing, and thinking about Saader's parents makes him wonder why Brandon hasn't yet bothered to ask for them.

"You miss them?" Jon asks as they're helping him tie the laces on his sneakers.

"Mom and Pop?" Brandon shrugs. "They think you and Kaner are good for me."

Jon blinks. "When did they tell you that?"

"After the look—after we got hockey back," Brandon says, tongue poking out as he loops the laces together and lets out a triumphant, "Yes!" when they're tied successfully.

Kaner looks a little more shocked than Jon, probably because not many parents would call Kaner a “good influence” on their children. He doesn't say anything until they're walking past the Military Library. Brandon's holding both of their hands and swinging his arms occasionally, content to walk along beside them, chattering about anything.

"He's your rookie," Kaner says, quietly. "I didn't expect _that_."

"Sometimes," Jon says, "when you're not acting like a complete douchebag, people can see you've got a heart."

"Only sometimes?" Kaner says, smiling self-deprecatingly.

Jon rolls his eyes. "Fishing for compliments, eh?"

Kaner snorts, lips twitching. Brandon lets go of their hands to chase the pigeons littering the sidewalk, and Jon shies away instinctively. Kaner's totally laughing at him, but the New York pigeons traumatized Jon or some shit, okay.

Thankfully, they make it to 316 without any further incidents involving pigeons or people with camera phones, and Brandon trots eagerly into the club. Carmelo takes their explanation of Brandon being Clint's nephew in stride, and is pretty amenable to giving Brandon a mullet as well.

"Better see if I can remember how to do this," he says.

Jon takes the seat next to Brandon so that he can keep an eye on what's going on, and isn't surprised to see Kaner with a beer in his hand already. "Starting early?"

Kaner just flips him off while Carmelo gets Brandon seated, his little legs nowhere near the foot rests.

"I want the racing stripes!" Brandon peers back over his shoulder at Kaner. "Can I have them?"

"Have what," Jon says.

"Can I have racing stripes?" Brandon says. "Please?"

"Sure, buddy," Kaner says, resting his hip against the side of Jon's chair. "You want two or three?"

"Got to earn three, Kaner!" Brandon says, matter-of-fact. He settles back in the chair and tilts his head to look at Carmelo. "Please can I have two?"

Carmelo nods, and gets to work.

\---

Jon is pretty horrified when he sees Brandon's hair. He gets awkward flashbacks to the first time Kaner came out of 316 with a mullet.

"Looks great, Little Saader," Kaner says, holding his fist out. Brandon bumps it and then grins at Jon.

"S'good?"

Kaner's giving him a pointed look over Brandon's shoulder, so he nods and gives Brandon a high five. "Looking great, buddy."

"You don't haveta like it," Brandon says, searching Jonny's face. "I know you hated Kaner's."

"That's because Kaner is not as good as you," Jon says, tickling Brandon as he climbs down from the chair. He giggles and falls into Jon. "You look great."

Kaner sticks out his tongue which has Brandon giggling again, and then Kaner takes the chair.

"You wanna get a drink?" Jon asks Brandon, who screws up his face and nods. "Soda?"

They retreat to the bar to get soda, Jon running his hand over Brandon's mullet. Brandon's keen to keep watching Carmelo cut Kaner's hair, and Jon settles back to do the same, catching Kaner's eyes in the mirror. Jon's got preferences over Kaner's hair choices, but he has to admit (privately and _never_ out loud) that at least the mullet is a step up from the hideous disaster that Kaner's currently sporting, and that's saying something.

"You getting three?" Brandon asks, pointing at the stripes Carmelo's currently giving Kaner.

"I am, buddy."

Jon snorts. "Maybe you should just shave the lot off."

Kaner rolls his eyes. "You'd miss my hair."

The look Jon gets from Kaner in the mirror is nothing short of heated, and fuck it all, they're in front of _other people_ and this is fucking ridiculous.

Jon loves having Brandon around, but he's getting _cockblocked_ by a five-year-old.

\---

Jon's a bit embarrassed to be walking down the street with Kaner and Brandon both sporting mullets, but thankfully they've both put their caps back on, despite Brandon complaining nobody would see his new haircut.

"It's okay," Kaner says. "When we get back home, we'll take lots of pictures and show them to the guys.”

Brandon fist bumps and god, Jon's going to have to train him out of that once he changes back into Saader. Kaner's a terrible influence on Brandon, no matter what Saader's parents said.

When he says so to Kaner, keeping his eye on Brandon, who's chasing pigeons just ahead of them, Kaner elbows him sharply in the side.

"You're an asshole," Kaner informs him.

"Bad word!" Brandon crows from ahead, and then turns and runs back. "Can I have ice cream?"

"What, none for me?" Kaner clutches at his chest dramatically.

Screwing up his nose, Brandon says carefully, "Can _we_ have ice cream?"

"I dunno buddy. I thought we talked about ice cream tomorrow?" Kaner says, gesturing pointedly to Jon, who frowns. What the hell is Kaner talking about?

"Birthday!" Brandon says, and then slaps his hands over his mouth.

Jon snorts. He hasn't _forgotten_ , he's just had plans for weeks that have involved Kaner, the condo, and not much else.

Brandon looks up at Jon with sad eyes. "Sorry I gave it away."

"You didn't, buddy," Jon promises him.

Brightening up at that, Brandon grabs Jon's hand. "Good! Because it's got to be a secret."

They're close enough to Jon's condo that Kaner feels comfortable sliding his hand into Jon's back pocket and leaning in to whisper, "Maybe we'll have a private birthday once Saader's back to being him."

Jon turns his face, feels Kaner's lips brush his cheek before he pulls back. "Oh yeah?"

Kaner nods, sweeping in to pick Brandon up and throw him over his shoulder, Brandon squealing in delight. "Bet on it, Captain!"

\---

That night, Brandon falls asleep pretty quickly, and once he's safely in bed, Kaner straddles Jon on the couch. Jon's still not completely comfortable doing this feet away from Brandon, but Kaner kisses him, hot and eager and _desperate_ , and Jon can't help but sink into it. It's been days since he felt like he's able to touch Kaner in the way he wants, so he slides a hand up the back of Kaner's t-shirt, the other on Kaner's hip, fingers digging in hard.

He loves making out with Kaner, who abandons himself into every kiss. He surges forward, uses tongue and teeth and years of learning Jon to drive out noises Jon would be embarrassed about if it were in front of anyone else.

He doesn't know how long they spend kissing, only that it doesn't _lead_ to anything. It's sloppy, and pretty soon Jon's sure they're just sharing breath instead of actually kissing, but Kaner's sunk low in his lap, thighs either side of Jon's hips, and he's got both arms around Jon's neck.

"I've been wanting to do that for days," Kaner says against his mouth, pulling Jon's lip between his teeth.

Jon moves his hands down the back of Kaner's sweatpants into his boxers to cup his ass. "I wanna fuck you."

Kaner makes a noise in the back of his throat, and he tilts his head, sucks at the soft skin below Jon's left ear. "We—"

"—can't, I know," Jon says, frustrated. He just wants Kaner so badly right now, and it’s only grown worse. Kaner being good with kids is something Jon’s seen before, but it’s different when it’s every day and _domestic_ and god, it makes Jon even more hot for him.

He settles for shifting until they're both stretched out on the couch, Kaner lying on top of him, making out like they're rookies again.

They fall asleep like that, one of Jon's legs shoved between Kaner's, and Kaner's face tucked against Jon's neck.

\---

They're woken by Brandon leaping onto both of them, shouting, "Happy Birthday, Jonny!"

Jon groans, turning his neck into the couch cushions. He's totally going to regret sleeping on the couch when it comes to playing tomorrow.

Shit.

Brandon's still a kid and they're playing in the first round of the _playoffs_ tomorrow.

"Stop it," Kaner says, coming awake because Brandon's currently sitting on his hip, remote in hand and turning on cartoons.

"I can watch cartoons?" Brandon asks, which is moot point considering they're already playing.

"It's fine, buddy," Jon says, waiting until Brandon's turned away to raise his eyebrows at Kaner. "You don't know what I'm thinking."

"The playoffs start tomorrow, but I always know what you're thinking, dumbass." Kaner pokes him in the hip. "It'll be fine. We'll play fine."

Jon doesn't know about that; they've got a system that works. When he opens his mouth to say that to Kaner, Kaner flicks his gaze to Brandon, who isn't paying them any attention, and then kisses Jon quickly. "If I can lose Sharpy and still play my best, you and Hoss can do this if Brandon's still...Brandon."

Jon sighs, knowing there's no use arguing with Kaner when he's looking this stubborn, but also knowing that, whatever happens, he's going to have to suck it up and deal with it. He doesn't have to like it, but injuries can't be expected and they still work through him. He has faith in his team, he just doesn't want to be distracted by knowing one of their teammates is a _child_.

"Do me a favour?" Kaner asks. "Try and enjoy your birthday, dude."

Jon snorts. "Why? What are we doing?"

Kaner wiggles his eyebrows, but Brandon kicks him. From the angle, and the expression on Kaner's face, it wasn't exactly his hip that Brandon hit.

"Careful there, buddy," Jon says, rolling away and grabbing Brandon. Kaner immediately turns his back on them, groaning into the couch cushions.

Jon winces in sympathy, and leaves Kaner to whimper out his pain while he grabs them some breakfast.

\---

Brandon and Kaner are tight-lipped over breakfast about what they're going to do for the day. It's not completely surprising; Kaner's surprisingly good at keeping secrets when he really wants to, and he obviously wants to keep this one. Jon's not fooled by the way Kaner gets Brandon to distract him with picking out clothes and helping him with his sneakers, so that he can take shit out to the car.

Kaner drives, which is unusual in itself, but apparently he wants to keep the secret up as long as he can. Jon makes small talk, thankful when Brandon asks questions about the scenery rushing by. Jon's pretty sure he knows where they're going because he's driven this route before, and he catches Kaner's eyes in the rearview mirror, raising his eyebrows.

Kaner just smirks.

When they pull into Cantingny's, Jon snorts. "Golfing, huh?"

"Don't front," Kaner retorts. "You would have come here anyway."

"Actually," Jon says. "I was content to..."

He trails off, but Kaner gets it. He can see the flush spreading up his neck and sits back in his seat, smug.

"Golfing!" Brandon says, leaning forward in his carseat. "You excited?"

"I am, buddy."

The three of them climb out of the car, Brandon immediately latching on to Jon's hand as they cross the parking lot. Kaner's got his hands in his pockets, but bumps his hips against Jon's as they walk.

"You gonna make me go on the youth course?"

Kaner snorts and rolls his eyes. "Such a hardship for your competitive nature, but no. They don't usually allow five-year-olds on the course, dude, but drop a few names..."

"Great."

"We’re golfing," Brandon says, to just about everybody they pass. He's oddly excited about it, despite the fact that, as far as Jon knows, he hates it when he's fully aged.

His excitement ramps up when he realizes they get to drive in real life golf carts.

"Can I drive!" He turns wide, excited eyes on them. "I won't hurt anyone!"

Kaner leaves Jon to deal with it, the fucker, and carries their gear to the cart. Brandon's still looking up at Jon with a smile and what the fuck ever, Jon says, "Sure."

He's not completely lost control of his faculties; he sits on the cart, Brandon on his knees, and both of their hands on the steering wheel. They're probably breaking a million rules, and Jon's less-than-stellar driving choices are certainly adding to the situation when Kaner glares at him.

"You wrap this cart around any trees with a five-year-old in it, and I will fucking kill you, Toews."

Jon knows Kaner's mostly worried about Jon driving anywhere without total control and care because of _one_ time he drove with a concussion, but Jon's got self-preservation in mind, so he keeps his mouth shut. Not that he couldn't take Kaner, but it's not worth the trouble.

Brandon's having fun anyway, making zooming noises as they make their way out onto the course.

All in all, it's a good day. They play as many holes as Brandon can stand, with him asking for help from both of them alternately. Kaner and Jon have a wager going about who will win the most holes that they mostly manage to keep out of earshot of Brandon, but he demands ice cream if he can, "get my ball in the hole with six swipes."

Kaner grins and agrees, and Jon's mostly impressed at Brandon's deal, standing there with his hands on his hips, and chin tilted up.

They get lunch at the grill and restaurant, which Jon glares both Kaner and Brandon into eating healthily for, and by the time they leave, Brandon's flagging a little, so much so that Kaner picks him up and carries him back to the car.

On the way back into Chicago, Kaner's got the music low, and Jon keeps peering over the back over his seat to check on Brandon.

"So what do you wanna do when we get back?"

Jon shrugs. "I'd say you're doing a good job of keeping me entertained, Peeks."

Snorting, Kaner turns his attention back to driving.

\---

Brandon wakes up when they reach the condo, and chatters excitedly about the golfing they did as they make their way up in the elevator. He's got his hand in Jon's, even though there's no need, and is hugging his leg.

"We have dinner reservations," Kaner says, as Jon and Brandon settle in on the couch. Jon thinks he's justified in watching SportsCenter highlights, considering it's his birthday and he fucking wants to. Brandon's enthralled by the hockey anyway.

Jon nods at Kaner, even though he's not totally sure whether or not he can be seen, and then wraps an arm around Brandon. "Who you rooting for?"

"Chicago, duh," Brandon says.

Jon doesn't have the heart to tell him he meant any team not Chicago, because Brandon's being pretty derisive about the other teams and it's fucking hilarious. Not that Jon actively promotes that sort of shit out of like, NHL unity or whatever, but he's still a Blackhawk through and through; he wants that fucking cup.

Kaner joins them on the couch with a beer for himself and Jon, and a bottle of gatorade for Brandon. He settles in on Jon's other side and tips his head back.

Jon tries not to think too much about how _natural_ this feels.

\---

The restaurant, some Mediterranean place in Lakeview that Kaner says he found 'by accident', is pretty small but quiet. It's not that people don't know who they are, but it's chill and the lights are enough that they don't get bothered as much. Kaner's gotten Sharpy, Abby and Maddy to come along, and Jon tries not to think too much about how familial it feels. This is all fucking weird, and Brandon is still _Saader_ , just not.

He gets distracted by the food—and by the way Kaner's being more tactile than usual. Sharpy's amusement at their domesticity seems to get worse now that he can see how they're being with Brandon, but it's not like he can talk—and Abby seems to agree, if the way she keeps elbowing him the entire time is anything to go by.

"Shut your face, Sharpy," Kaner says, after another jibe.

Sharpy affects a look of innocence, but nobody's been fooled by that ever, so Jon doesn't know why he bothers. "Peeks, I'm hurt."

"Peeks!" Brandon says, waving his fork in Kaner's direction. Kaner grabs his wrist gently and puts it on the table. "Sorry. But Jonny calls you Peeks!"

Jon groans internally. Sharpy looks even _more_ delighted, and Abby is looking interested rather than exasperated.

"He does, huh?" Sharpy asks.

Kaner's blushing again, stammering out something that doesn't even sound convincing to Jon, and Jon's pretty much determined not to let this get to him. It's a plan doomed to failure, but whatever.

There's an awkward silence that only seems to be awkward for Jon, because Brandon keeps eating, oblivious. He's making faces across the table at Maddy, who's giggling. Sharpy and Abby have dual expressions of smugness and fuck his life, seriously.

"So, what did you guys get Jon for his birthday?" Kaner says, weakly, latching on to the lamest subject ever, in Jon's opinion.

"It's not a question of what we got him, Peekaboo," Sharpy grins. "It's a case of the gift you've just give us."

"Screw you," Jon snaps. He can't put too much heat into it, because they kind of got themselves into this situation. "You're such a tool."

Sharpy reels back, clutching at his chest. "You wound me, Toe-ez. In front of my child, too."

Brandon chooses that moment to announce to the entire restaurant that he needs to pee. Jon rushes to take him, thankful for a reprieve from the scrutiny of both Abby and Sharpy. Sharpy's a tool and he'll give them shit about it, but it’s not like he’s going to realise that Kaner and Jon are—

What? Together? Jon's not even sure _he_ can put a name to what they are. He wants to, he really fucking wants to, but talking about it just never seemed to happen.

Brandon knocks on the door, letting Jon know he's done, so they make their way back to the table. When he sits, Kaner leans back in close and says, "We need to talk."

Jon's not entirely sure he wants to, but he's aware they _need_ to.

It doesn't end up being a shitty end to his birthday, because Sharpy and Abby do have a gift for him—a new wristwatch which is pretty fucking baller—and Maddy gives him a sloppy kiss on his cheek when they leave. Kaner gets a bigger one, but Jon's not too put-out because Kaner's like, Maddy's favourite person in the entire world, and Brandon's holding pretty tightly to Jon's hand, asking if he's had a good birthday.

"I did, buddy. Did you enjoy the food?"

"Yep! We should come again." His grin is so blinding that Jon can only nod, even though he's not sure how long Brandon's going to be a kid.

"What if he gets stuck like this?" Jon asks, on their way home.

Kaner snorts. "Not an option, dude. You heard Hoss and Shawzer. This wears off in a couple of days."

"It's been three," Jon points out.

"I can count, asshole." Kaner sighs. "I dunno man, it is what it is."

Brandon kicks up a fuss when he has to go to bed that night, wanting to get back in with them, but Jon's pretty adamant that he needs to sleep in the guest room. If he and Kaner are going to talk, he doesn't want it to disturb Brandon, and this way, one of them can have the couch and one the bedroom if shit gets serious—and he doesn't want Brandon to have to deal with that.

When he's finally settled, Kaner sits on the end of the couch, cross-legged and nursing a beer. Jon grabs himself one, and then stands awkwardly in the doorway. "This talk gonna fuck shit up?"

Kaner snorts. "Not unless you want it to. Brandon's a five-year-old kid, and he's picking up on shit like that. You think he's going to forget when he's an adult?"

"It doesn't matter if he does," Jon replied, perching on the arm of the couch next to Kaner. "Sharpy's not going to."

They sit in silence for awhile, the only sound in the room the clink of Kaner's bottle against the table.

"You know that I—" Kaner stops himself. "I'm not ashamed of you, dude."

"I know," Jon says, because he does. It's just—difficult.

"Then we gotta be all in or not at all, you know?"

Jon nods, grip tightening on the bottle. "’All in’ is what, exactly?"

Kaner looks at him like he's dumb which, point, but ‘all in’ for Kaner doesn't necessarily match up with what ‘all in’ means for Jon.

"I want—" Jon sighs. "I just want you, okay? I don't know what else you want me to say."

Kaner sighs, sinking back into the cushions. "You gotta decide how much you want _other_ people to know."

Sharpy will keep his mouth shut about it, Jon has no doubt about that, but the fact that someone else even knows is scary as fuck. It's always been him and Kaner, and he doesn't know how he feels about someone else knowing.

"This whole thing with Brandon—I keep thinking about how—" Jon cuts himself off, frowning. "I keep wanting so fucking much, you know?"

"No," Kaner says. "I don't know. Want _what_?"

"You," Jon says vehemently, turning to Kaner. "Us. Brandon."

Kaner's eyes go a little wide and he swallows. Jon watches the movement of his throat and lifts a hand, curls it around the back of Kaner's neck. "Actual Brandon?"

Jon wants to laugh at that because what the fuck, but he doesn't. He shakes his head gently. "Not—not Brandon, idiot. But a kid—child. With you."

Kaner lets out a rush of breath and then tips forward, his forehead pressed to Jon's chest. "Of course I want that with you, asshole. I always—I wanted it before."

Jon drops a kiss to the crown of Kaner's stupid fucking mullet and lets himself smile because he's fucking got this— _they've_ got this.

\---

When they wake up in the morning, it’s to an awkward, “You guys?”

Their door is half-open, and it takes Jon a moment to realize exactly _who_ he’s looking at. “You’re back!”

Kaner stirs beside him, hair sticking up from under the duvet, and Jon has a split second of being embarrassed, because it’s one thing for Brandon to see them this way as a five-year-old, and quite another for their _teammate_ to see them this way. 

“Can I borrow some clothes?” Brandon asks, sheepishly. 

Jon snorts, and climbs out of bed to grab him some sweatpants and a shirt. Kaner rolls over into his spot, spreading out in the bed and going right back to sleep.

“Lazy ass,” Jon mutters as he hands over the clothes, and registers the incredulous look on Brandon’s face before he disappears back in the direction of the guest room. 

Jon’s not entirely sure where they go from here, but he goes to make some coffee and find something for breakfast anyway.

Brandon comes out a little while later, dropping onto one of the stools lining the island. "Weird to be sitting on one of these when I'm this tall."

Jon snorts and hands Brandon a mug of coffee. "You okay?"

Brandon nods. "I think I'm pretty much back to being me." He pats the top of his head. "Plus a few changes."

Looking contrite, Jon says, "Sorry about that."

"We talked about it," Brandon admits. "Kaner and I. Said we were gonna do it."

Kaner had said that, but Jon's still glad they didn't fuck with his hair and he hates it or whatever. The awkwardness doesn't go away, and Jon's not exactly sure what you say to someone who's just de-aged and then come back again.

"Thanks," Brandon says, eventually. "For taking care of me."

Jon shrugs. "It's no big deal, man."

"It kind of is." Brandon drains the last of his coffee. "You and Kaner—you did pretty good, you know?"

Jon's not entirely sure where this is going, especially when Brandon regards him carefully. "You'd make great dads."

That's surprising. "We would, huh?"

"And I'll keep your secret," Brandon promises. "If you want me to."

Jon opens his mouth to reply, but Kaner chooses that moment to come into the room.

"We're not sure what we want, yet," Kaner says, joining Brandon at the island. "S'good to have you back, man."

Brandon grins at him. "Good to be back. In time for the playoffs, too."

Shit. "We've got _skate_ this morning."

Kaner rolls his eyes. "Chill, dude, we've still got time. And now we have the Manchild back."

Brandon sighs. "I was kinda liking ‘Little Saader’ for a while, there."

Kaner looks wistful and then just sad. "Yeah."

Jon doesn't like the look on either of their faces, so he starts hustling them out of the kitchen and into getting ready to head to the rink. Brandon complains about wanting to go home first, but Jon's got his gear and clothes in the car, and he doesn't protest _too_ hard anyway.

Before Kaner disappears into the bedroom, Jon catches his hip and spins him around, pressing him up against the wall. "You want him to keep the secret?"

Kaner hooks his fingers in the waistband of Jon's pants. "Not if you don't. I'm all in, Jon, remember?"

Yeah, yeah he remembers. "Me too," Jon breathes, so fucking happy he thinks he's going to burst with it. "We're doing this then?"

"Yeah," Kaner says. "Yeah we are."

**Author's Note:**

> yeah, i don't even know okay.


End file.
